


Malfunction

by after_midnightmunchies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Lance comforts Shiro, M/M, One Shot, my favorite combination, with lots of kisses and gentle words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/after_midnightmunchies/pseuds/after_midnightmunchies
Summary: Shiro loses control of his arm. Lance helps him realize that he isn't at fault.





	Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> Idea courtesy of the super awesome [JuniperArts](http://juniperarts.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! I'd been looking for a reason to try my hand at Shance, and when she suggested this prompt I couldn't resist!

It had been an honest to god accident. Lance understood that,  _ believed that _ . Since his return, he hadn’t been… 100%. The Galra had likely done something – had probably tampered with the mechanics.

Because there was no way that Shiro,  _ his Shiro, _ would slap him across the face voluntarily. Especially not with his prosthetic.

_ It was unprompted and completely unexpected. They had been strolling down the halls of the castle, laughing about a prank that Lance had just pulled on Coran, when Shiro suddenly grasped his artificial arm and winced. When Lance reached out to take his hand, the former black paladin leaped back. There was a split second of eye contact as Lance stepped forward before Shiro’s arm lashed out at him. _

_ The sheer force was enough to knock him off of his feet – it was a miracle that he hadn’t lost consciousness. He did feel a sharp sting of whiplash in his neck, and his head throbbed with a possible concussion. _

_ He could see the instant fear and regret in his eyes. He’d reached out to him, clutched at his human arm desperately, but Shiro had always been stronger than him. The older man had shrugged him off and all but bolted to his room wordlessly, refusing to even meet Lance’s gaze. _

He cradled the cooling pack to his cheek, pouting up at Hunk. “What do I do?”

The yellow paladin frowned, pulling a fresh pack from the freezer. He glanced over to where Lance was sitting with a mournful expression on his bruising face. “I don’t think there’s much you  _ can _ do. You know how distant and irrational Shiro gets when it comes to his Galra arm.”

“But I want to help him!” Lance declared, slamming his free hand down on the table. “I just need to find a way to get him to let me in!”

Hunk sighed. “What you need right now is to get into a healing pod for a few minutes. I don’t think it would help for him to see you all bruised and cut.”

Lance winced at the remark, knowing that he looked like shit. He could feel the entire left side of his face swelling, the pressure nearly sealing his eye shut. Thanks to the ice, the pain had subsided to a dull throb, but a small stint in the healing pod wouldn’t hurt.

“You’re right,” he groaned, touching a hand to the side of his head carefully. “And I should give him some time to cool down, too.”

Hunk flashed him a small smile before handing him the fresh gel pack. “Come on, I’ll help you get settled.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lance emerged from the pod a half hour later feeling devoid of any scars or bruises. His head no longer swam with a lingering concussion, nor did his neck ache from whiplash.

Surprisingly, Shiro was waiting for him when he emerged, the older man seated in the middle of the room, eyes cast to the floor. His legs were crossed beneath him, and he looked almost as if he was meditating.

Lance shakily walked up to him. When he didn’t meet his gaze, he stooped to sit beside him. Shiro immediately backed away in response to the proximity.

“Don’t… please,” he murmured in a broken voice. His throat sounded hoarse and his words were thick, like he’d spent his entire time apart from Lance crying.

For all Lance knew, he had.

He obediently remained where he was, allowing Shiro to put some distance between them. He patiently waited for him to relax and settle in a spot, fidgeting a bit self-consciously. Did he look okay? He hadn’t gotten a chance to ensure that the bruising had actually gone down.

_ Shiro wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to talk,  _ he assured himself as Shiro finally cleared his throat.

His head shot up hopefully, but the older paladin still wouldn’t meet his gaze. He sighed, putting on a neutral expression. He didn’t want to give Shiro the impression that he was faking it for his sake.

“I don’t blame you.”

Shiro didn’t respond, but he acknowledged that he was listening with a small nod.

“It wasn’t your fault. I know you’d never do something like that if you could help it.” The space between them was killing him, but he forced himself to remain in place. Shiro didn’t need physical assurance yet.

“Please don’t blame yourself.”

Shiro finally glanced up at him, but he didn’t dare move closer. He curled around his mechanical arm protectively, like a soldier shielding his teammate from a grenade.

And that thought hurt Lance more than he could express.

His resolve broke.

He practically flung himself at Shiro, throwing his arms around him and squeezing. Maybe if he pushed enough love at him, it would drive the fear and panic out.

It didn’t.

Shiro leaped out of his arms and backed away frantically. “Lance, stop. I could hurt you.”

Tears sprung into his eyes at the rejection. “You won’t! I know you won’t!” he cried, scrambling to his feet. “You would never!”

“But I did!” Shiro sobbed brokenly. Lance had never heard him sound so hurt, not even when he was being tortured by Sendak. “I did and you should hate me for it. I’m a monster!”

“But you aren’t!” Lance shouted desperately. “That wasn’t you!”

Shiro fell silent, eyes dropping again. “I can’t control it, Lance.”

Lance took a hesitant step forward. When Shiro didn’t react, he took another, and another, until he was finally in front of him again. He reached out and cupped his jaw with a hand tenderly. “I don’t expect you to.”

Shiro bit his lip, likely stifling a rebuttal, as Lance gently stroked his left cheek with his thumb. His left hand slowly snaked down Shiro’s right side until it reached his right hand. He gauged Shiro’s reactions warily. When he didn’t tug away again, he leaned forward and sealed their lips as his fingers interlocked with the prosthetic ones.

Shiro slowly relaxed into the kiss, left hand falling to rest at Lance’s hip. Lance smiled against his mouth before pulling away and pecking kissing across his cheeks and down his jaw. He traced the length of his neck, dragging his lips from his left ear to his right.

“Lance,” Shiro whined, but he made no move to stop him.

The younger paladin only continued his trek, moving further down to kiss along his collarbones. His tongue poked out and ran along them teasingly, eliciting a grunt from his boyfriend.

Finally, he moved up to Shiro’s right shoulder. Grateful for the black tank that left the skin of his arm exposed, Lance kissed all the way down to where flesh transitioned to metal.

Shiro finally caught onto what he was doing, stiffening when he felt Lance’s warm breath on his prosthetic. “No, wait! What are you–”

Lance cut him off with a quick peck to his lips. “Just let me do this,” he whispered, a determined fire in his eyes.

Shiro flushed and nodded his consent, allowing Lance to resume his ministrations.

Now granted permission, Lance took his time, running his lips along the slightly cool surface until they were almost numb. Shiro sighed, dragging his left hand up and down Lance’s side lovingly.

He finally reached his hand, which was still intertwined with his own. He kissed the back, then each knuckle of each finger, and finally pulled his hand away long enough to kiss the palm that had wounded him earlier.

When he was finally satisfied, he brought the hand to his cheek, nuzzling it affectionately. He felt Shiro tense, the joints locking slightly, so he cradled the hand with both of his own. He raised his eyes to meet his boyfriend’s surprised expression.

“Why?” Shiro finally whispered.

Lance released his hand, smiling when Shiro didn’t retract it from his face. “To show you that I still trust you.” He brushed his own fingers along the older paladin’s jaw again, slight stubble catching pleasantly along his flesh. Shiro brought his other hand up to cup Lance’s face in response, mimicking the soothing motion.

Lance melted into the touch, humming happily. “See? You aren’t a monster, Takashi.” He grasped Shiro’s hands gently, recapturing his boyfriend’s focus. “We’ll figure out what’s going on with your arm and fix it. We’ll work through this together.”

Tears pooled in Shiro’s eyes again. Lance brushed them away with his thumbs as he closed the distance between their lips again. He was grateful to be the one that could comfort Shiro through his biggest insecurities. To be able to see him at his weakest and provide him the same support that he always gave. To be able to hold him and assure him that everything would be alright, and be believed.

To be able to love and be loved by him.


End file.
